


Chocolates and Corgi

by issabella



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, Corgis, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Smitten Erik, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, alternate universe - sweets shop, corgis and chocolate and flirting make for one extra sweet mixture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 14:04:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2231778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/issabella/pseuds/issabella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik is helping out his mother in her sweets-shop. Usually working as a lawyer has him prepared for dealing with even the most annoying and unruly customers. What it doesn't prepare him for is the charm and unabashed flirting of Charles Xavier and the craving for dog-treats of his corgi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chocolates and Corgi

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another corgi inspired fic.  
> So be prepared, this is very fluffy, sweet and silly, really.  
> I only wanted to write a little something for this pic http://awwww-cute.tumblr.com/post/94416325182/i-work-at-a-convenience-store-where-we-give-treats ohteepeeh brought to my attention, but the fic got a little longer than intended.
> 
> Not betad, so there will be weird grammar since I'm no English native speaker.
> 
> There now is a chinese translation of this fic availaible. :) Thank you [huta](http://archiveofourown.org/users/huta/pseuds/huta)  
> You can find it here: http://www.movietvslash.com/thread-136380-1-1.html  
> (registration-required. Public ID:authors Passwords：123456789)

The bell above the shop door chimed. It was still early in the morning, Erik hadn’t expected any customers this soon, (people seemed to tend to buy sweets in the afternoon, for some odd reason) so he had snuck to the back-room behind the counter to drink some coffee and flip through the newspaper in peace. With a little sigh he put the coffee-cup down, smoothed down the purple apron he was wearing and stepped out into the shop.

“Sorry, I was just at the back, how can I help you.” This was what he had intended to say, but he didn't get past the first syllables. There was a dog at the counter. To be more precise, there was a pair of oversized ears on a small head, brown gaping eyes and a large black leathery nose. The whole ensemble seemed to have emerged like a submarine on a recon mission right at the edge of the counter.

Erik frowned annoyed. The sign beside the door was big enough and it said rather clearly that no dogs were allowed inside. There was even a nicely crafted metal handle to tie any dogs to, made by Erik himself. He followed the loose leash that lead from the dog to a guy wearing jeans and a tight fitting blue shirt. He had his back turned to Erik, paying no attention to what his dog was getting up to. 

It irritated Erik enough to ignore the way the man's arse filled out the jeans rather nicely, and looked perfect for grabbing.

“Excuse me,” Erik started to say, voice stern, and then something went wrong. For he meant to lecture the man on not heeding the sign outside, that he couldn't bring his mutt into the shop, the reason being rather obvious, because people like him had no control over their dogs and let them sniff and slobber all over the chocolates and sweets.

Erik had years of practice standing in courtrooms and making witnesses, accused and sometimes even the jury feel small and guilty without having to raise his voice. (Though he was known to do that too.) But all that experience was worthless as the man turned towards him. His wavy brown hair was long and thick enough to comb ones hands through, freckles littered his face and nose, that was neither to be called classic nor beautiful but nevertheless simply fit him and made Erik want to place a kiss on it. The morning sun fell through the large display-windows filled with sweets of all shapes and sizes and hit the man's eyes just right, making the blue light up enthralling Erik's gaze and mind.

Erik heard himself say. “Sorry, I was just at the back, how can I help you?” He blushed with embarrassment.

The man looked surprised. “Oh, hello.” A little shake of the head, then the lips curled up in a smile and Erik suddenly couldn't help noticing how red they looked or their exquisite bow. 

“I was just browsing... I hadn't realise Edie hired someone to help out in her shop.”

Maybe he should have been surprised about how this man, this gorgeous being sounded like he was familiar with Erik's mother, but he was far too distracted and really, with his mother he had learned not to be too much surprised.

“No. I mean, she didn't. She's sick. I'm her son. I'm just helping out.” 

Erik was sure he came across like some moron, unable to string more than three words together to form a sentence. 

“Oh, I hope it's nothing serious!” The man looked genuinely concerned. It made him look even more attractive for some reason.

Erik swallowed. “No.” If it wouldn't have been cause for more alarm than his current witless way of speaking was already, Erik would have hit his forehead against the counter. “She came down with a cold. She should be getting well soon – if she stays in bed.”

“So I'm sure she can relax, knowing you take good care of her shop. Though you don't normally work here?”

“No.” Erik barely managed to stifle a groan. But he had dealt with lost causes before, though normally he did not associate the term with himself. Stubbornly, he he pushed on. “I work at a law-firm, specializing in mutant rights.“ Erik didn't know why he was telling the man that last bit but he needed to flesh out his sentences a bit more, to make it clear his sudden bout of tongue-tiedness was only a temporary condition.

“Oh, so you're a mutant?” The man came up to the counter. 

“Yes.” With the man coming closer, Erik's brain went back to being able to its monosyllabic answers.

“Hm, I'm Charles by the way. You'll probably have guessed already, but me and Fudge come here often.”

A soft whine from the dog, that was still staring over the edge of the counter, drew Erik's attention for a moment.

“Fudge?”

“My dog.” Charles smiled apologetic. “I know it says that dogs aren't allowed inside, but the first time I came here it was pouring and Fudge was making quite a fuss while he had to wait, so your mother allowed me to take him inside. And gave him a dog-treat. So ever since Fudge seems to be expecting a treat when we come here and your mother is most obliging – spoiling him actually.”

Yes, that sounded like his mother. Erik found himself nodding. And since the man, Charles, seemed to be waiting for him to say something, he finally added. “It's okay.” Even though just moments before it hadn't been okay with him and he would have kicked out anyone who took their dog inside – anyone but Charles, because who could deny those blue eyes, that red mouth, that smile.

Charles put a hand on the counter leaning closer. “So since you know our names, may I ask what Edie's son is called. It would make it easier for me when I think about you.”

Erik's eyes widened slightly. “Ah...” He must have misheard. “Charles...”

Charles grinned, eyes twinkling mischievously. “You are called Charles too?”

“No!” Erik's ears turned red. “Erik, I'm Erik. I wanted to say, it's nice to meet you, Charles.”

“Do you really work in a law-firm? What exactly do you do there?”

Erik frowned. “Yes, I'm a lawyer. Why do you ask?”

“I just thought lawyers would be... never mind.” 

Erik wanted to ask why Charles was doubting him, but then the answer was rather obvious. Tongue-tied and fumbling with words, not your typical lawyer.

“So that's BoM-Counsel and Defence you work for?”

“Yes. You heard of it?”

“It's the only law-firm specializing in mutant-only causes and takes on only mutant clients. Though I fear to ask, just in case I need a lawyer, how many judges and juries have you managed to persuade to vote in favour of your clients?” 

Erik should take offence, but he simply couldn't. It only stirred the desire in him to try harder to get something witty out. “Why, you plan on committing a crime?” There, finally, that was a witty reply – all right, maybe a bit predictable, but it was a start! Oh and did that mean Charles was a mutant too, with no visible mutation as far as Erik could tell, though.

“Not planning, no. Though I seem to be guilty of committing a crime – purely accidentally though, as I want to bring up in my defence.”

Erik looked startled.

“One theft of tongue.” Charles answered cheekily.

“It's not yours yet!” The brash answer even startled Erik himself. Maybe he should take things slowly, regain his bearing, communicate on a customer – shop-assistant level with Charles first.“So what can I help you with? Where you looking for something special or simply wanted to browse?”

Above all things Charles looked pleased. “We'll see. But, I was looking for a present.”

Helping out his mother during holidays since he could remember had let this become routine even if he worked a completely different job now. “What occasion?”

“Birthday present, actually I was thinking of getting her some chocolate truffles. I got some of those for myself and shared them.” Charles stepped away from the counter and picked up a bag of plainly wrapped chocolate truffles, showing them to Erik. “She liked them, but for her birthday I hoped I could get them in a more fancy packaging.”

What woman would Charles give chocolate truffles to? Erik felt suddenly irritated about a total stranger. Plus technically Charles wasn't more than a mere stranger either. “We have those packed in gift-boxes as well.” Erik came round the counter and headed for one of the shelves that held all sorts of differently shaped and sized boxes. “These are the same brand,” and more reluctantly he added. “as is this heart-shaped one.”

He looked over at Charles, who had put the plainly wrapped truffles on the counter but was giving Erik his full attention, Erik himself that is, not the boxes. 

“Very nicely packaged indeed.”

Erik frowned.“The heart-shaped one?” The question came out more snappish than it should.

“No, not that.” 

Charles' gaze wasn't on the box though, but seemed to focus on Erik's arms. Involuntarily, Erik glanced down to check what Charles was looking at. But he saw just his arms, mostly bare for he wore a shirt-sleeved dark-blue t-shirt.

“Hmmmm, and no, Moira is a friend and colleague, so the heart would be inappropriate.”

Erik relaxed. “Good.” He coughed and put the heart-shaped box aside. “So this leaves this carton box, or these two tin-boxes.” He picked up the paper one and had the other two hover beside him taking them back to the counter, putting them down there.

Charles' eyes seemed to shine brighter, if that was even possible and his lips parted in an expression of utter delight. “So your mutation is telekinesis?”

Erik shook his head. “Magnetism.”

Erik wanted to ask Charles about what he could do, when the dog interrupted him. It whined and put its front paws on top of the counter, pushing its nose forward to sniff at the boxes Erik had put down there.

“Fudge, no!”

The whine got louder and more piercing, the dog looked imploringly at Charles, but then retreated and finally disappeared from view entirely with a little thump as it hit the ground.

“Sorry about that. I could tie him up outside, if you-”

“No!” He would not be the evil dog-hater here. Also his mother would be angry with him, if he dared to banish one – to her – undoubtedly adorable dog from the shop, that she had obviously welcomed warmly before. He hadn't even known she carried dog-treats. “No it's alright, it – Fudge can stay.”

“Only you were frowning in a most disapproving manner, my friend.”

“I was not!”

“Does that line of defence usually work?”

Charles was cheeky, but Erik, unlike himself, found it less annoying but rather endearing. “You would be surprised how people dislike to argue with me, so yes.”

“Since your opinion is so valued, help me pick one of the boxes.”

Erik looked down at them. “I would take one of the tin-boxes. They're all nice looking, but the tin ones can be used for storing stuff once empty. The cardboard one is more easily smudged with chocolate that you can't just wipe away and is in danger of getting squashed while being transported. As for the two tin boxes,” He pushed the boxes forward for Charles to examine them more closely. They were the same size and had the same content, yet one was green and had baroque-style ornaments all over, in reminiscence of wallpaper of the time. The other was similarly decorated yet was purple. “they are identical, so you only have to decide which colour...”

But Charles wasn't looking at the boxes, he was looking at Erik. And as soon as Erik noticed the words seemed to get stuck in his throat again.

“Hmmm, I think I have to revoke my previous assertion, I can very well imagine you pleading a cause at court and winning over juries and judges.” 

Erik wasn't sure if it was meant as a joke, but it was hard to think when Charles was bracing himself on the counter with both hands and leant precariously forward, as if he wanted to...

“So I take whichever you pick.”

Erik put his hand on the purple box, not giving it much consideration, just picking his favourite colour instinctively. Next he felt Charles' warm hand on top of his on the box. 

“I'll take it. Could you wrap it for me, I'm awfully clumsy at that.”

Erik couldn't imagine that being true, but he nodded. “Of course.” He was reluctant to take the box though, because he didn't want Charles to take his hand away. What would that hand feel like elsewhere on his body? 

No, flirting was one thing, this was getting out of hand! Charles' hand, his thumb, was caressing over Erik's. Unable to stop himself he looked down, to assure himself it was not only his mind playing tricks.

'I don't even know what his mutation is.' Not that it mattered what it was. Controlling fire or simply making plants grow, he simply wanted to see what Charles could do. He was sure the way he appeared so vibrant and alive would only be amplified by his mutation.

Surprisingly Charles drew back his hand. It took Erik a moment though to back-paddle and find where he had lost track of their conversation.

“I'll just – wrap it up then, shall I?”

“Please.”

The one word sent a marching-band of ants parading down his spine. He could just imagine Charles saying that in bed, whispering that one word into Erik's ear. 'Please suck my cock, please fuck me, or please let me fuck you.' Erik didn't care what Charles would ask of him but he would do it willingly.

Before his ideas could wander off further, a sobering thought struck. If his mother were here and saw him gaping and stammering at a customer like that, she would – well actually he didn't have to give the situation too much thought, the vague notion of his mother frowning at him was enough to let him regain some of his senses.

“It will only take a moment.”

“No need to hurry on my account.”

Erik opened the drawer where his mother kept the wrapping papers, selected one and a matching ribbon and started wrapping the box of chocolate truffles. 

“Lovely...”

Erik decidedly didn't look over at Charles.

“I knew with your beautiful hands you must be very good at wrapping things – or unwrapping.”

Before Erik could think he found himself turning his head towards Charles after all, his gaze falling on Charles' own hands. “I'm sure you wouldn't be so bad at it yourself.”

“I tend to lack patience. I'm more of the tearing the wrapping open kind of type.”

It was ridiculous, but Erik thought he should have worn a buttoned shirt instead of the T-shirt so he could put Charles' words to the test.

His thoughts were interrupted by a bark that – Erik found to his surprise – didn't come from behind the counter but from right next to him. He looked down at the corgi, that seemed to have decided to take matters in its own paws. Having Erik's attention it jumped up on his legs, stubby paws pushing against Erik's knee again and again, the jumps accompanied by more demanding barks.

“Fudge, no! Behave!”

But apparently the dog could only take so much in being denied its customary dog-treat. It slid of Erik's legs, and ran around him, leash trailing behind it, the same leash, Charles, who decided action to be more helpful than words on this occasion and who had slid behind the counter as well, was pulling at. Erik felt the leather tighten around his legs, unsteadying him. The corgi took exact that moment to jump up at him again.

Erik fell with a loud crash, hitting his elbow and shoulder on the counter on the way down.

“No!” Charles dashed forward, got a heap of bouncing corgi between the feet and toppled forward.  
He landed much softer though, right on top of Erik.

The impact knocked the air out of Erik's lungs and the next thing he knew there was the sound of pained groaning, coming from himself and Charles it seemed. Something wet pressed against Erik's face, then there was a little barked huff and the clickety clack of paws on the tiled floor. 

Erik blinked, his vision slowly clearing and he saw the corgi sniff at Charles' face too, before he licked it and then turn away. It hoisted itself up on its hind-paws and stuck its jaws into one of the shelves behind the counter, growling as he pulled out the already open and half-eaten bag of dog-treats to the ground and started to gobble it with gusto. 

“Erik, are you all right. I'm so sorry.” Charles braced himself on his hands and pushed himself off Erik. A change in position Erik found he didn't find an improvement of the situation. “Please Erik, say something. Did you hit your head?”

Charles leant forward, straddling one of Erik's thighs in the cramped space behind the counter, while his fingers gently started touching his head in search for blood or signs of a forming lump.

The shock was wearing off and Erik noted the pain in his elbow and shoulder, both throbbing angrily, but neither appearing more gravely injured. Charles carefully lifted his head, fingers sliding against the back of his scull. The touch felt actually nice. “Erik, come on... look at me.”

Erik blinked and obligingly looked Charles in the eyes - so very close and so blue. He just wanted to gaze into those eyes a little longer.

_'Erik, come on, speak to me. Are you hurt? Can you move? I can't feel anything on your head, but maybe I missed something. Just think of the place it hurts the most, please.'_

Erik's eyes widened in surprise as he realised Charles wasn't speaking with his mouth, actually he was nervously licking and biting his lips, but Erik heard him directly inside his head. It was a disconcerting, the extra thoughts making his mind feel suddenly – crowded. “Oh, so that's your mutation. You're a telepath!”

He felt Charles on top of him freeze. Not only his whole body suddenly went rigid but his mind seemed to shrink in on itself, at least the part that had been brushing against Erik's thoughts, or maybe that was just what him retreating in a hurry felt like.

“No!” 'No no no, stay!' He tried to project like his colleague, Emma, had taught him. He heard her ranting on how unfairly telepaths were treated by society, even more so than other mutants, at least once a week over lunch. She wasn't allowed to practice at court, for everyone’s fear she might influence peoples minds, despite very strict laws in effect. _“It's against the law to break into a house. With your power could do so without leaving a trace, but everyone thinks that of course you will abide by the rules. How come they don't allow for the same courtesy of trust for telepaths?!”_

Charles' body stayed were it was but there was no indication that he would make any attempt to touch his mind to Erik's again.

“Erik, I'm sorry, since you didn't react I was worried and only meant to check-”

Erik reached up, ignoring the protesting pain from his elbow as he moved it, and buried his fingers in Charles' hair.

“Oh no, that's wonderful.”

“What? Erik, you're not making any sense, you did hit your head!” Charles voice wavered slightly.

Erik tried again. “You're gorgeous, your mutation is gorgeous.” And just in case Charles still thought he didn't make any sense, Erik pulled Charles further down and kissed him.

It was only meant to be a chaste kiss, but Erik felt Charles' lips part, warm and welcoming and he gently nibbled at Charles' lower lip, before he ran his tongue over it. He faltered a little as Charles didn't respond further and drew back. “You did flirt with me, I didn't just imagine things?”

Charles laughed, sounding slightly giddy. “No, you didn't imagine things, I only thought, well that is I didn't think kissing would become an option today.”

“Oh...” Mesmerised, Erik watched as Charles licked his lips, wanting nothing more than to kiss him again. He wondered if Charles would really mind. “What about this, is this an option?” Erik moved his hand from Charles' hair to cup Charles' face, fingers tracing over his temple, which brought a fluttering of eyelids along, before he brushed Charles' ear. To his surprise he heard Charles gasp.

“Uh – Erik, careful, my ears are rather sensitive.”

Fascinated, Erik nevertheless drew back his hand, filing the information away, hopeful he might be able to make use of it later.

Charles cleared his throat and licked his lips. 

Erik leaned up, only brushing his lips against Charles', it did seem to be the only sensible thing to do, despite Charles' words. But Charles moved his head away and put a finger against Erik's lips instead.

“As I was saying, well, as I meant to say, I hoped we could set up a date, and then a goodnight kiss could become an option – or good night kisses, cause I've got the impression you kiss rather good.”

Erik smiled.

“Erik? Ist alles in Ordnung? Ich habe einen lauten Rumpler gehört, als wäre etwas umgefallen. (Erik? Is everything alright? I heard a lout crash, as if something had toppled over.)”  
Suddenly his mother's voice was coming from the back-room behind the counter and before Erik could even start to think she appeared at the door, dressed in her pyjamas with a dressing gown over them and a large shawl pulled over her shoulders. Her gaze quickly focused on Erik, lying on the floor with Charles on top of him. 

Fudge looked up from the sadly crunched wrapper of his conquered bag of dog-treats and barked happily, wagging its tail in excitement.

His mother clearly was less excited. “Erik Maximilian Lehnsherr, what are you doing on the floor with one of my dearest customers!”

“Mother, you shouldn't be out of bed!” Erik was only concerned, but clearly it was the wrong thing to say. She looked rather offended.

“I will check on my shop whenever I feel it is necessary. Now you help Charles up this instant and apologise to him!”

Erik's eyes widened in disbelieve. How come his mother always assumed the worst of him. “Mother it's not - I didn't do anything!”

“Stop making excuses, Erik!”

“I'm sorry, Edie, but Fudge got a little bit overexcited about his treat.” Charles cut in, smiling apologetic at Edie Lehnsherr, while pushing himself off her son and getting back on his feet.”

“I'm sure there is nothing you need to apologise for. Are you alright?” 

Fudge took the opportunity and stepped into the cleared space, right onto Erik's chest. The dog was way heavier than it looked. It barked excitedly at Edie, who obligingly bent down to pet it. “Erik, you didn't give him all what was left of the dog-treats?”

“I didn't give it anything!” Erik protested weakly.

Charles had the decency to look guiltily down at Erik.

“No, it is really I who have to apologise. I – uh – got distracted and didn't look out for what Fudge was getting up to and before I could stop him he rushed behind the counter to get the chocolate. I'm just glad Erik didn't get hurt more seriously.” He reached out a hand for Erik to help him up. “Fudge, off!”

The corgi looked at Charles, whined, then slid off Erik so Charles could pull him up. Erik staggered a little, bumping against Charles. He steadied himself with a hand on Charles' shoulder and would have been tempted to let his hand linger, or brush his fingers against Charles' lips, if his mother hadn't been watching him expectantly with a small frown on her forehead.

He felt like he was five again and had accidentally hit that other child on the playground with a ball, and his mother made him go over and apologize.

“Thank you, Charles.” Reluctantly he let his arm sink. “And my apologies.” If only he could figure out what his mother meant him to apologise for exactly, he could sound more sincere about it.

“You're welcome. Though I really think it is me who has to thank you, for cushioning my fall, and I have to apologize for not keeping Fudge on a tighter leash. Let me at least pay for the dog-treats he ate.”

Hidden from Edie's gaze, Charles' fingers brushed against Erik's, touching lightly, as if he meant to take his hand, his thumb rubbing over Erik's, his fingers feeling smooth, with just a little pressure behind the hidden touch that sent goosebumps down Erik's spine.

“Nonsense, it was meant for him anyway.” Edie cut in. “Next time I hope Erik will be more attentive.”

“Oh but he was very attentive. He helped me pick out the right present for a colleague of mine and wrapped it beautifully!”

While on one end Edie dished out scoldings for Erik she seemed very pleased at Charles complementing her son. Erik decided maybe he could keep her focused on the latter and make her forget the chaos she had just witnessed, or whatever she thought it had been. 

“My mother taught me. I helped out in the shop in my spare time since I can remember.”

“How sweet of you. It must have been hard though, surrounded by all these sweets as a child and not allowed to eat them.”

“Well – sometimes I got lucky.” Erik lost himself in Charles' eyes for a moment, only the sound of his mother coughing grabbing his attention again. “Mutti, you should go back to bed. I'm sorry we – I – startled you.”

Edie's cough ended rather abruptly. “Well, yes, I probably should. And before I forget it, there is more dog-treats in the top drawer on the right.”

“Why would I need more dog-treats. It already ate what was left of the bag!”

“Just in case. Should Charles come to visit in the next days and I'm not yet recovered.” And then his mother did the most outrageous thing. She winked at Erik. 

Erik felt so flustered he got behind Edie, ushering her out towards the back. “Just a moment Charles, I'll be right with you.” To his mother he spoke more quietly and switched to German, just in case being a telepath also meant having sharper hearing. It seemed to be the case with Emma. “Mutti, was – was meinst du damit. Er kommt doch nicht jeden Tag vorbei? (Mutti, what – what do you mean? He doesn't come here every day, does he?)”

“Normalerweise nicht, aber ich glaube er hat jetzt einen guten Grund dazu – besser als Schokolade. (Usually not, but I can imagine that now he's got a good reason to – better than cholcolate.)” She smiled smugly.

Erik felt scandalised. “Mutti! Du, aber,... (Mutti! You, but,...)“ he was flailing for words. It was becoming a theme today.

“Könntest du nur bitte etwas weniger stürmisch in deinen Flirtversuchen sein, du verschreckst ihn ja! (Only please be a little less ardent in your attempts at flirting, or you will scare him off!)”

“Aber ich habe doch gar nicht... (But I didn't really...)”

“Erik, also ich weiß ja nicht wie du es angestellt hast, aber du kannst mir nicht erzählen, dass du das nicht mit Absicht gemacht hast. So und jetzt geh wieder ins Bett und du kümmere dich um Charles, aber stürz dich nicht gleich auf ihn, ja. (Erik, I have no idea how you managed it, but you can't tell me that you didn't do it on purpose. I'll head back to bed now and you take care of Charles, but please don't swoop down on him right away.)” She patted his cheek and left Erik gaping after her, before he turned around to head back into the shop. It felt odd, having his mother's blessing of sorts to date Charles.

He found Charles back on the right side of the counter, with Fudge now kept on a short leash beside him. He looked all the proper customer again and all of a sudden Erik wasn't sure the incident of them lying together on the floor had really happened, or rather had happened exactly as he remembered it. And Charles talking about a good-night kiss, was he angling for a date?

“I'm sorry Erik, I totally lost track of time, I really got to get going.”

“Oh. Yes, of course.” He totalled up Charles' purchases, barely noticing that he had added another piece of chocolate to the wrapped truffle-box and the bag of truffles, and put everything in a bag for him.

Charles paid and was headed for the door before Erik could think of the best way how to bring up asking for a date. His gaze fell on the counter, where Charles had forgotten the bar of dark chocolate with marzipan filling, which was actually Erik's favourite chocolate. “Charles wait, you forgot this!” He grabbed the chocolate and rushed after Charles, wondering how it ended up on the counter since he was sure he had bagged it with the other things.

Charles was already at the door, but he turned as he pushed it open, to wink at him. “Well I think you got lucky, Erik.” And with that Charles was gone, leaving Erik to stare confused after him, before he lowered his gaze to look at the chocolate. He didn't even wonder how Charles had known he liked it, because – telepath. But he was startled to notice something scrawled on the wrapping. 

It was a number and beside it, it said: Call me so we can see when that good night kiss could become an option, Charles. 

Grinning, Erik walked back behind the counter. He saved Charles number to his phone and started checking his calender to send a message to Charles right away, to set up a proper date.

It turned out the good night kiss was very much an option, as were the many kisses to follow.


End file.
